


Fateful meeting

by Cirilla9



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Betrayal, Cultural Differences, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Elf Culture & Customs, Khuzdul, Mild Language, Mud, Rain, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: What starts as the worst day in Caranthir's life does not turn out so badly when he meets someone he didn't expect to.





	Fateful meeting

It all begun with the betrayal of the weather herself. He shouldn’t be surprised. Gods had cursed them. Ossë nearly destroyed the ships during the crossing, why should Ulmo not send an additional rain to scourge him further? Perhaps in cahoots with Manwë.

The cart got stuck in the mud and was nigh impossible to haul up free. Escort consisting of Ossiriand’s elves categorically refused to use their horses as a pulling power. “They’re our friends,” they stated. And “we would not descend to such work nor ask our mounts to do it. The best you can do is to wait until the weather changes.”

So Caranthir ended up the only one trying to push the wagon off the mud, even knowing how hopeless it was. He was red from exertion. It might at least help to relieve him of some anger. For now he was pressing on the car, cursing the Valar, the Green Elves and their inability to build a proper paved road.

The Green Elves first laughed at him, then got bored and dissolved into the forest as quickly and silently as they had emerged from among the trees earlier.

"May they all be damned. Savages, barbarians, bunglers. Close to nature, indeed. The nature gave the Eldar intellect to use it, though it was clearly skimped on some."

"I thought the elves don’t know how to curse but, by Durin, I’d give my beard this is what you’re doing."

Caranthir looked up from the muddy Sarn Athrad. On the river bank stood some strange, bearded, bandy-legged creature that apparently took a great interest in his struggles.

"How about you go down here and help me?"

"I’m strong but not that strong. Two is not enough." And with that he was gone, though not so inconspicuously as the elves.

Just when Caranthir was at the verge of killing something to calm himself a bit, the creature was back. With more beings of his kind. They brought a few furry horned animals with themselves. The beasts seemed small but they appeared extremely powerful for all their insignificant size. Harnessed to Caranthir’s wagon, directed by their short masters, they’ve made a quick job of pulling the car onto the relatively dry ground.

Caranthir thanked grumpily.

His companions exchanged some words in a language he didn’t know, clearly deliberating on something. When a decision was made, they asked him unto their halls. Caranthir looked at the clouds, stormy as Ulmo’s displeased expression, and agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

They hosted him with plenty food and strangely tasting drinks but he was more curious about the interior of a great hall, of the stones glistening in the walls and how cleverly they were cut to reflect the highest amount of light.

"How do you like the beer?" asked him the one that was the first to meet him, pouring him more of the amber fluid into the heavy cup.

"Awful," said Caranthir. "Bitter and weak in percentage."

His new companion laughed heartily.

"An honest elf, brothers!" he announced. "What a miracle we’ve found today."

"I shall send you some of the potent wine, so you could try a real liquor. Though you must wait till summer for it as it is. You could really use a road paved with stones here."

"First being honest, now talking about building, from stones no less! Are you really an elf, tall one?"

"I might not be deemed the most beautiful among my kin but I think I’m also far from being as ugly as the lot of you," snorted Caranthir.

The bearded one at his side chortled. Caranthir was starting to like these strange creatures.

"Even if we build the proper road as you advice with whom would we trade? Elves would not even sell us the wood, though they had plenty of it."

Caranthir livened up at the mention of trade. His eyes lit and a rare smile appeared on his lips as the beginnings of the plan started to form in his head.

"What if it was not you trading directly but rather made a profit from others’ exchange of goods? These mountains you live in are something like a natural border between two plain lands, right? What would you say to making it into a safe, well-kept passage for a trade rout? All for the fair price of course…"

Caranthir laid out his drafted plan for them, and the circle of his listeners grew steadily as the words flew and the evening passed.

 


End file.
